He misses the irony of thinking those particular words to himself in his shock at finding the mirror is becoming something other than just a mirror. A soft, fleshy something. It's alive, and it's right there.
Victor gasps, but Kol is too quick for him to snatch his hand back in time. Another hand grabs his, encasing it in a wet grip. He feels all the hair on his body rise in horror.
This is not okay.]
God!
[For one dizzying moment, he's afraid the other intends him harm, but the hold loosens, the hand retreats, and Victor is free to cradle his wrist where the blood hasn't reached, biting back a groan. A scare tactic, he surmises in the quiet that follows, a quiet permeated only by his panicked breathing. He looks down to see nothing but blood. Fresh blood, all over his hand.
Almost too afraid to take his eyes off the mirror now that he knows it's not an impermeable barrier between him and it--no, him--he staggers back, fighting for calm.
The mirror is just a mirror again. For how long, though? And what's next to come?
Taking up water and a rag, he cleans himself off, sneaking glances at the mirror until the water in the basin turns pink. Getting near its surface again is out of the question, obviously, but yet... He can do something that doesn't require him to find his voice and speak to his attacker (malevolent or merely mischievous?)
He searches for pen and paper, surprised his hands don't shake after a start like that. Then he slowly holds it up a few feet in front of the mirror where it's visible to anyone lurking behind it.]
thanks for making him feel at home, bro
He misses the irony of thinking those particular words to himself in his shock at finding the mirror is becoming something other than just a mirror. A soft, fleshy something. It's alive, and it's right there.
Victor gasps, but Kol is too quick for him to snatch his hand back in time. Another hand grabs his, encasing it in a wet grip. He feels all the hair on his body rise in horror.
This is not okay.]
God!
[For one dizzying moment, he's afraid the other intends him harm, but the hold loosens, the hand retreats, and Victor is free to cradle his wrist where the blood hasn't reached, biting back a groan. A scare tactic, he surmises in the quiet that follows, a quiet permeated only by his panicked breathing. He looks down to see nothing but blood. Fresh blood, all over his hand.
Almost too afraid to take his eyes off the mirror now that he knows it's not an impermeable barrier between him and it--no, him--he staggers back, fighting for calm.
The mirror is just a mirror again. For how long, though? And what's next to come?
Taking up water and a rag, he cleans himself off, sneaking glances at the mirror until the water in the basin turns pink. Getting near its surface again is out of the question, obviously, but yet... He can do something that doesn't require him to find his voice and speak to his attacker (malevolent or merely mischievous?)
He searches for pen and paper, surprised his hands don't shake after a start like that. Then he slowly holds it up a few feet in front of the mirror where it's visible to anyone lurking behind it.]
Human blood?